In Argentina, feral women — some of them naked and likely intoxicated — are dancing in the streets in celebration of their newly legislated “right” to murder their own children:

The crowd of a few thousand burst into raucous cheers and tear-filled hugs as Vice President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, who presided over the debate, announced the result, shouting “legal abortion in the hospital!” as the measure was passed.

“I am the mother of a girl and I know that she will have more rights tomorrow and that keeps us moving forward,” said Renata Vismara, her voice hoarse after the celebratory street demonstration.

The mother of a girl you would have happily killed, had she been deemed an inconvenience, you horrific excuse for a woman.

Added Valentine Luy Machado: “The power of seeing it come true after so many years … it’s revolutionary.”

It certainly is. And the motto of the revolution is non serviam. 

I won’t share the videos of the worst of the bacchanalia, because they’re indecent — not that the kind of women involved in this orgy of bloodlust would present much of an occasion of sin to any decent man. But this one, without nudity, should give you a taste of the frenzied delight:

Imagine being this excited about killing your own children.

Meanwhile, Pope Francis is so excruciatingly brave that he managed to raise his voice to a barely audible whisper on this abomination in his native country.

No angelus address. No television interview. No scurrying off to express his dismay to his old pal Scalfari. No publicized phone calls to the Argentinian president.

What did Francis do? He wrote a private letter to a priest saying that pro-life arguments should be more scientific than religious, and another private letter to a group of women in Argentina who had asked for his help deploying one of his idiotic metaphors about whether it’s fair to hire a hitman to solve a problem.

I kid you not.

This is the same man who made a point of having a publicized meeting with his old pal, Italy’s most notorious abortionist, on the day Americans were electing their most pro-life president in history.

Emma Bonino and Pope Francis. Image courtesy of LifeSiteNews

So happy together. Abortionist Emma Bonino and Pope Francis, gazing at each other like soulmates. Image courtesy of LifeSiteNews

He’s feckless. Useless. An utter moral vacuum. And that’s me being nice.

It’s the penultimate day of 2020, and we’re still cramming more horror into a year already stuffed to the gills with flaming garbage as we limp across the finish line. I don’t know which of the two competing forces battling within me will win the day – my rage at the willful perpetration of these evils, or my sheer exhaustion from the endless string of defeats.

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